


stay the night

by kerrykins



Category: Sharp Objects (TV)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, F/F, fiction&femslashevent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/pseuds/kerrykins
Summary: this is actually technically the first jackie/adora fic i wrote & i was just on the fence about posting it so i'm sorry if it's bad :((





	stay the night

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually technically the first jackie/adora fic i wrote & i was just on the fence about posting it so i'm sorry if it's bad :((

Jackie was drunker than she should have been. The number of glasses bled into one another, the sweltering heat only contributing to the throbbing pain at the back of Jackie’s head. In the shade of the veranda and comfort of wicker chairs, both women were struggling to contain themselves.

Adora, whose didn’t have much of a tolerance for alcohol, leaned against the other woman for support. Her breath fell in delicate puffs against the flushed skin of Jackie’s neck, uneven but giddy. They stayed like that for a bit, very quiet and very still. Adora smelled of lavender and honey, her golden locks pristinely curled and pinned back. Jackie resisted the urge to stroke her hair because they were no longer schoolgirls at recess, they were both married women well into middle age. Adora would admonish her in that sugary, oh-so-flustered way of hers, instantly sending Jackie home. She’d never deign to swat Jackie’s hand away, for she was the lady of her estate, the hospitable hostess that could do no wrong. They both knew Jackie wouldn’t fall for that bullshit, but Adora did it anyways.

“I’m going to get up now,” Adora said suddenly, her diction as sharp as it always was. She swayed as she rose to her feet, evidently lacking her usual poise. Despite her best attempts to hide it, she was just as drunk as Jackie. The realisation made Jackie snort with laughter and earn a quick glare from Adora, though it wasn’t in earnest.

When they were younger, Jackie was sure that Adora would become a professional dancer. Her movements were always so graceful, even as a teenager. She was beautiful too, with a haughtily upturned nose and delicate features. Everyone thought she was the prettiest girl in town, Jackie included. There was a splattering of freckles just across the bridge of her nose and Adora’s hair would turn rose gold in the setting sun. Jackie would brush and braid that hair on dreary Sunday mornings before church. Then they’d hold hands as they sat in their pews.

Adora had been a different person then, had rolled her eyes at the notion of any career but never ruled it out as a possibility. They’d wanted to leave Wind Gap then, forge a new life for themselves beyond this dump of a town. Their high school years were spent on the little cluster of chairs on the Preaker veranda, gazing out at the infinite stretch of grass. Life had been as perfect as it could be for the two of them, some drunk girls growing up in the desolate South. But Wind Gap had a way of running people’s lives into the ground, making it impossible to leave.

When Marian died, it was as though a light had gone off in Adora. As troubled as the woman had been, there was a flicker of hope, however how small. It burned with Marian’s body. Adora became a shut-in, never venturing past the porch unless she absolutely had to. That house, with its dark interior and robin-blue shell, had always belonged to Adora— yet over the years, Adora had let it consume her. Where she began and the house ended became a mystery, as if she was just another silk chaise in the parlour, pretty and falsely bright. 

Jackie knew Marian well, not like Camille, but any daughter of Adora was hers by extension. The girl’s death left a dark chasm in her chest that couldn’t be sealed with alcohol or pills or a thousand sleepless nights. Marian, whose hair Jackie had brushed, who spent her summer days playing in the creek, was gone. And Jackie was partly to blame.

Adora didn’t cry at the funeral. But the night before she had showed up at Jackie’s house unannounced, seeking comfort. Jackie gave her a couple orgasms before Adora left as abruptly as she had come, not even with a ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you.’

Adora hovered around her with a quiet impatience and it dawned on Jackie that Adora was waiting for her. Maybe she wanted to walk off the alcohol with a stroll around the veranda. It had been awhile since they’d done that, years even. Jackie forced a grin and hopped to her feet. “Whew, I sure feel like shit. No one makes an amaretto sour as nasty as you do, Adora. Gotta hand it to ya.” She raised her glass as if to give a toast, which coaxed an exasperated smile from Adora.

“They’re not as bad as your Bloody Marys.”

Jackie couldn’t argue with that but rolled her eyes anyways. When Adora’s arm snaked around her waist, all the air escaped Jackie’s lungs. Adora didn’t ever touch her, at least intentionally; always in the form of accidental brushing of hands, Adora leaning on her for support when she was too drunk.

Twice they ambled along the wrap-around porch, both times in silence. Adora’s hand crept up her back, rubbing her shoulder. It became clear to Jackie that all this touching was intentional but she didn’t dare rise to the bait Adora was probably just toying with her again. Of course, Jackie wasn’t permitted to touch her, but Adora could do whatever the fuck she wanted.

Jackie was used to this kind of thing, knew that she meant nothing more to the woman that a self-esteem booster. She could stomach Adora’s constant pestering, being ignored without explanation, the insults levied her way. But this physical contact was driving her wild.

“It’s getting late,” Adora said, once they’d stepped inside the house. Jackie had learned to take that as her cue to leave but she had the sense that Adora wasn’t finished talking. Sure enough, she continued. “I think you should stay the night. Alan is out of town, by the way.” She added that last part so nonchalantly, Jackie nearly didn’t glean its significance.

“Sure, why not,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.


End file.
